Chapter Eight
As the car screeched along the road, Cassandra hung on for dear life, her knuckles white with the effort. At the same time, she tried to stem the flow of blood, which had started dripping from her knee again. He’s doing it deliberately, trying to frighten me, as punishment, she thought to herself. White-faced, she desperately tried not to show him that she was afraid. Jon, meanwhile, was hitting the horn violently, blasting away at any cars that came along in the opposite direction, or tried to overtake. Leaving Athens behind them, much to her relief, the roads became less busy, which meant there was less traffic to get in his way. She didn’t know if they were returning to Neolimanos or not, but she was glad that they’d checked out of the hotel, and that her belongings were
